


some calling me a sinner, some calling me a winner

by anxiousAnarchist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, also robots, boxing au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousAnarchist/pseuds/anxiousAnarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the ring she fills you with anger until you feel as if you're wont to burst, in the ring you are three tons of stamp and swagger. But here, in the quiet morning hours, she drains you. </i>
</p><p>The one where Aradia and Vriska pilot giant robots in an underground boxing ring, and Rose likes to watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some calling me a sinner, some calling me a winner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratherrumpus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherrumpus/gifts).



> This is a boxing AU set on Derse, and we are all very sorry. 
> 
> Warnings for blood and violence, sexxxxxxxxy sex, shitty family situations, and Vriska (Vriska.)

 

> _I tip on alligators and little rattle snakers_
> 
> _But I’m another flavor_
> 
> _Something like a terminator_

 

You don't fuck like you fight. That's rule number one. 

So when Aradia slides your underwear off and presses her face between your legs you don't hiss and claw. When she stares up at you with those clear unnerving eyes you don't try and blacken one. 

This is a competition too. You hold very still and try and bite down any noise, hands clenching and unclenching. She smiles and you gasp despite yourself, the curve of her mouth as soft on your skin as her fists are hard. You grab her hair and she giggles, a little bubbly laugh that makes you yank harder.  

In the ring she fills you with anger until you feel as if you're wont to burst, in the ring you are three tons of stamp and swagger. But here, in the quiet morning hours, she drains you. You go loose, you float, you are one long tremulous sigh. 

\---

She's got her brothers to take care of, and you've got your mom and your sister, so it's not like it's personal, except for all the times it is. 

Her brothers love her, though, you think. You are a mess that needs cleaning, but a productive one, so Aranea takes your winnings and your mom wastes away and that’s close enough to something like family, maybe. 

\--- 

"Get in the fucking robot," says Nepeta. 

"Fuck off," you say. "Make someone else do this match. I'm tired." 

She growls, and pushes you out of your chair. "Vriska, get in the fucking robot, or I'll make Equius do it instead, and tell everyone that it's you tripping over your feet and accidentally crushing your fingers out there." 

You glance at the doorway, where Equius Zahhak stands, sweaty and dour and frowning nervously. "Yeah let him do it." 

Aradia pops her head in. “I knew you were scared to fight me,” she says, smiling. 

You are not  twelve! You are too old to fall for that blatant emotional manipulation. This is not a playground, and you cannot be won over by this ridiculously simple attempt to spur you to action because of your rivalry. 

Whatever, it’s totally gonna work, and you know it. 

“Equius always loses against me,” says Aradia. She’s already suited up, skin tight body armor showing off every sturdy muscle she has. Where you are long and lanky, one huge slouch, she is a solid brick of power. “So I guess that means I’ll go up a few places in the charts.” 

Equius rips the towel in his hands to tiny pieces absentmindedly, staring in turn at Nepeta and Aradia, eyes darting back and forth. There’s color in his cheeks. It is fucking pathetic. 

“Zahahk, you owe me so much!” you say. “You owe me gobs and gobs, I am going to ruthlessly defeat Aradia and you are gonna owe me so much.” 

“Whatever,” says Nepeta. She throws your suit in your face. “You’re late. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got ladies to schmooze with.” 

\---

You get in the robot. The cockpit doesn’t leave much wiggle room, but Zahahk is as good at this shit as he is sweaty. Every inch serves its purpose, every panel covered in readings and switches. Your arms and legs slide into place. You flex them, and Mindfang glows.  

You should run checks, make sure _all systems are go_ , but you just want the _go_ part. You curl your fingers,  watch Mindfang curl its fingers in response.

“And here she is,” you hear the announcer rumble. “Lady Luck and her ferocious captain, Mindfang!” 

The crowd screams and cheers as you stomp forward on monstrous legs and you are part of the machine. You are part of the machine, and you are invincible, in ways you always knew you were.

Aradia’s across the Pit from you, suddenly twenty feet tall and electrifyingly red. She crosses her arms. She taps her foot, and the vibrations make everyone around her in the audience shudder. 

With an unholy screech of metal, you throw the first punch. 

\---

Aranea's sitting at the kitchen table when you come in, legs crossed at the ankle, sipping tea. "Have fun?" she asks. 

"Fuck off," you tell her, dropping your gym bag on the floor with a thud. You stretch, feel your shoulders crack and pop. Rummaging through the refrigerator reveals nothing of interest, and you bang your head as you close the door. 

"You're so naturally graceful, it's a shame you never went into ballet." 

"Have you considered fucking off, and also dying?" you ask.

"Where's the money?" 

You slam the bills on the kitchen table. 

"Not as much as last time." 

"I didn't win," you say, grabbing a box of crackers out of the cabinet. You crunch one furiously. Stale. You eat another anyway. 

"Mother won't be --" 

"If _Mother_ doesn't like it, she can damn well come down here and tell me herself. And if _you_ don't like it, why don't you just go and do my job for me?" 

Her eyes flash behind her glasses. "I could, you know." 

"I know," you say. "But you won't. That's the difference between you and me. You don't like to mess up your hair." 

\---

When you're not fighting in giant robots, you're just fighting. 

The normal illegal underground boxing ring (words that don't really belong together -- "normal" and "illegal underground boxing ring") is held in a couple of gyms all over Derse. Training by day, vicious beatdowns delivered by yours truly by night. 

Obviously, you do not fight giant robots in a gym. 

You fight them in The Pit. 

That's what you call it. That or "anime hellcave." Its proper name is just The Arena, which is ostentatious and stupid and silly and you can't believe that's all Nepeta could come up with. "The Arena?" Not even, like, the Thunderdome or the Whoop Ass Central Kick Butt Station. 

Nepeta's got a pretty good racket going, though. Use your illegal underground boxing to rack up money via admission charges and betting pools, use it to fund your secret mecha palace, make bank on the spectacle. 

\---

You met Nepeta at a convention, which is not generally the place one looks for pint sized bodybuilder mafiosas. 

She was playing in the same thrown-together DnD session as you, and one too many bad dice rolls meant a fistfight with the DM. After it escalated, Nepeta backed you up, and when you both sat outside the con center nursing your various wounds, she gave you her phone number and said she had a business proposition. 

You thought this was her awkward way of asking you out or something, but no. She wanted you to actually fucking fight robots. 

You're jealous of Nepeta sometimes, if only because you assume she's literally livin the dream. 

Her dream, anyway. Not yours. 

\---

She catches your eye instantly. Leaning over the railing of the ring, hair a golden hazy halo around her dark head. 

There were plenty of pretty girls who came and watched matches. Plenty of people who hollered so close to the match that they were practically in the fight there with you. But she smirks and smiles and studies, like she’s sizing you up.  

The woman isn’t as tough as she might want you to think, though. You see her wince when your loser opponent scores a punch. You spit blood and wink and she rolls her eyes like “do you think that’s impressive?” but 1. it totally was and 2. she was totally impressed. 

When you finish beating the ass of your opponent (some rando kid named Jeff or something), you sidle up to her, lean against the railing yourself. 

“So,” you say, still breathing heavily from the match, covered in spit and spittle and blood. “Like what you see?” 

 ---

You take her to the Clamshell, since that’s where you always go. 

The Clamshell is mostly the sort of bar that looks like you don't want to walk into, which means it's your favorite. It's got some sort of dubious connections, you're sure, since everything in this shithole of a city had the stink of deceit on it.  But Meenah never batted an eye when anyone came into the bar, Felt or Midnight Crew, just flipped her braid over her shoulder and looked menacing. 

You would never tell Meenah this, but you love it here. The ceiling is dingy, half of the lighting comes from strings of fairy lights hung all over the room, the peanuts are always stale, and the beer all ends up tasting like hoofbeast piss no matter where it came from originally, but only people you know bother you when you're here, and when you get kicked out for fighting or falling asleep in the corner you're always let back in. 

You took Aranea here once. You're not sure why. To prove a point, probably. Roxy was tending bar that day, and accidentally spilled two cosmos all over Aranea, and Aranea's looked with distaste on the place ever since. 

“Should you be drinking?” asks Rose “You look like you took a beating.” 

“Naw,” you say, and smile, though it hurts your split lip. “No head injuries, it’s all good. Besides, they know me here. They’ll cut me off if they feel like it.” 

Meenah’s tending bar. You flip her off as you take a seat, and she returns the gesture. 

“So I’ve watched boxing before, but that didn’t quite look like normal boxing.”  

You try to cooly gesture to Meenah to indicate your drink order, but it doesn’t really work. “What the shell are you doing?” asks Meenah. 

“Two rum and cokes, and a glass of water for her,” says Rose. “What kind of r—“ “The cheapest kind,” says Rose. 

“You know how to treat a lady,” says Meenah. 

“You watch boxing?” you ask. “You don’t really seem like the type.” 

“And you don’t seem the type to enjoy getting your ass kicked on a regular basis, and yet here we are. So what’s the difference?” 

You shrug. “Mostly, it’s about laws. Licensing, health and safety shit, promotions, who has to do what where, how many rounds, whatever. This cuts out all that shit. Sort of a slap dash operation at times, but you know. So you got really no weight classes, no fight doctor, not a lotta variety in venue. I never boxed legally, so I don’t know much more than that.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s more of a Prospit thing.”  

You raise your eyebrows. “You’re from Prospit?”

She laughs. “No, oh no. I’ve visited before, though. Spent a few summers there.” 

“Mostly,” you admit. “It comes down to the money.” 

“Ahhh,” says Rose. “So how exactly do you make something like prize fighting robots a _secret_? The planet’s not that big.” 

Your ex is a cop. Your boss is a mafioso with a genius mechanic and a direct line to some high holy mucky mucks in the top rings of Dersite government. “You punch really really quietly,” you say. 

“Seriously, how many people do you even have to pay off to make that work?” 

“Holy fuck, can it! You ask too many questions.” 

Rose smiles. “You know, when I was younger I thought about being a psychologist. So I think you might be getting off lucky here, question wise.” 

Generally at this point in a conversation with you, the other party has fucked off entirely, or else they’ve started punching you because it’s time for the match to start. 

Meenah all but throws the drinks at the two of you. You reach for one of the rum and cokes, but Rose swipes it away before you can. “These are both for me,” she says. “That —“ she nods towards the water. “ _That_ is yours.” 

Meenah laughs at you, and you flip her off, but you drink the water, and Rose doesn’t leave, somehow, incredibly, you keep talking and she doesn’t leave. 

She comes back, too. The next match, and the next, and suddenly you can’t remember how it felt to not see her almost every other fight, eyebrows raised in mirth or else disapproval, staring you down. 

\--- 

Weeks go by. Rose brings you takeout before matches, and you eat it in the audience, cheering on your favorites with your mouth full of the worst cuisine Derse has to offer. When you’re out together, you pretend sometimes that she’s a foreign dignitary and you’re her bodyguard. You watch movies. It’s juvenile, this, watching movies on Sunday afternoons with the blinds down, pressed drowsy against someone else. But it’s comfortable. 

She tells you about her brother, her girlfriend, her predilection for high fantasy fiction. You try not to tell her about your sister, your mother, the fights that’ve gone bad, the nights you don’t sleep. 

She shows you her adolescent stories. You read them aloud to her, laughing, and she laughs along with you. 

Turns out she’s related to Roxy, the bartender. That she knows Jade, that she regularly gets into fights on the internet with Aradia’s brother Sollux. She infiltrates your world and you try not to balk at the idea of sharing her, sharing this perfect clean slice of your inner life. But sometimes when she’s talking to Jade or Aradia, or you’re at the bar and she and Meenah swap stories, she nudges you with her knee or winks at you or reaches over to fix your hair, and you think it’ll be all right.

Days tick on. You don’t visit Aradia for a while. It’s almost like you don’t need it, until she reminds you — presses you against the wall in the pit while you’re looking over Mindfang, digs her hands into your hair and kisses you till you bleed. 

\---

Rule number two is you don’t fight who you fuck. That falls apart pretty much the second Aradia comes in with her ridiculous hair and ridiculous hat and her easy swagger. She knew Nepeta already, used to play DnD with her back in school, and that feels like an invasion — that’s what _you_ do with Nepeta. Jade, Nepeta’s go-to cutman, clicks with her instantly. Equius is head over heels for her. The first time you fuck it’s after she touches your robot when she thinks you’re not looking, and you grab her by the hips and don’t let go. 

\---

“We got sponsored for a special tournament lined up! This is a perfect opportunity for us to get one up over those Felt owned mice.” Nepeta stretches perfect out, purrrrfect. Sometimes you wonder if she takes the whole cat theme too far. 

Aradia hops onto the counter of the first aid station. “Special? Does that mean Equius finally figured out how to make the robots fly? Do we get to have flying robot fights?” She seems honestly enthused by the idea. You lean against a locker and sulk, as you are wont to do. 

“No. Big cash prize, though. Showy as we can make it. All sorts getting lovingly paw crafted invitations.” Nepeta’s tail twitches. 

“Business as usual then,” you say. “Can I go now, I got soooo much to do, you have no idea. Can’t waste too much of my time hanging around with you squares!” 

“There’s a catch,” says Nepeta. 

You sigh, and flip your hair over your shoulder. 

“We’re fighting against the Felt’s robot fighters. Whoever ends up winning the tournament, wins the other’s whole operation. Robots, mechanics, space, lock stock and barrel.” 

“So if we fuck up —“ 

“If you fuck up, we’re all out of a job, kitten.”

And guess who wouldn’t be happy about that. Well, you for one, which is the important thing. But also Nepeta, and however silly her anime t-shirts and cat ears and robotic fucking tail might be, she’s built like a brick shithouse and used to hunt wild animals with her bare hands. The big guys, too, the shadowy figures who Nepeta reports to, they wouldn’t be too glad. 

Aradia shrugs. “I’m better at waitressing anyway.” 

Nepeta’s tail twitches in irritation. “The cash prize is pawsitively amazing. Enough for a lot of things.” 

Aradia cocks her head to one side. “How many things?” 

“All the things,” says Nepeta.   

You can see Aradia thinking it over in her head. You, too, begin to wonder — enough to get out? Enough maybe to absolve you of _them_ , to get you outta hock with your own family? Enough to leave? 

“Is there another catch?” Aradia asks. 

“You betcha,” says Nepeta, and she smiles a huge earnest smile. “The tourney’s strictly two-on-two fights. Guess who I’m putting together!” 

You groan. Aradia laughs. 

“This is not a joke, this is the real deal!” says Nepeta. “The biggest game, and you two are going to win. Figure it out, I don’t care. Pretend you’re friends, synchronize your movements through dance. Figure. It. Out.” 

You’re about to interject another complaint, when Equius barges into the room, pushing Rose in front of him. You freeze. This is so embarrassing. 

“Nepeta, I found this woman lurking outside of the private areas. I don’t know who she is, but I suspect she’s up to something -“ he pauses, gives Nepeta a look you’re sure he thinks is significant — “ _indecent.”_  

“Cool your jets, pony boy,” you say. “She’s with me.” 

Rose fixes her collar, frowns at the damp sweat patches on her shoulder. “Yes, thank you Vriska. I was just waiting for my friend here, we agreed to meet up after she finished.” Rose gives Nepeta a once over, offers a hand. “Rose.” 

Nepeta shakes it. Nepeta has never been one to turn away a pretty girl. “Nepeta. Rose, next time, can you maybe wait a little further away for your furriend? Equius gets nervous.” 

Rose raises her eyebrows. “I noticed.” 

This is sooooooo embarrassing. 

Aradia hops down from the counter. 

“Ah,” says Rose. “You must be the Handmaid. I enjoyed watching the show tonight.” 

“Please,” says Aradia. “Call me Aradia.”  

Rose glances towards you and smiles, a private secret smile that you can’t resist. “I think I’ve heard about you.” 

“Only bad things, I hope.” 

“The worst.” 

This is a disaster waiting to happen. This is calamity in a bottle. Aradia and Rose are grinning and winking and nodding at each other, and you see your whole life slide carefully and quietly towards disaster. 

\---

"So what do you do for a living?" asks Aradia later, at the bar. To your extreme disgust, she'd tagged along, despite your strong and terribly subtle hints that _maybe she was not welcome!!!!!!!!_

"I freelance," says Rose. The same answer she gave you. You gathered eventually she meant writing. You're pretty sure, at least, that's what she means. 

"Oh, that sounds boring!" 

Rose smiles. "It is, mostly."

Meenah sets down a glass of water hard in front of Aradia. "Whaddya want, then?" she asks Rose. "The shittiest I got?"

Rose beams. "Yes, naturally. I will not be content with anything less than the foulest rotgut." 

"You disgust me," says Meenah, but she doesn't look too disgusted. 

"I'll pay," you say to her. 

"No, no," says Rose. "If I'm going to make you drink this, I'll pay for it myself." 

Aradia looks over at you and waggles her eyebrows. You scowl at both of them. 

"How come you never offer to buy _my_ drinks, Vris?" 

"Because I hate you."  

You both laugh because it’s true. 

\---

Rose brings her brother the next time she comes to a match. Human on human this time, no robots, "that shit is too high level for me to even comprehend," he says. You do not ask him why the two of them are watching regular beat-em-ups instead of a robot fight. He doesn't really seem to care if you asked or not! 

"Oh my God, does he ever shut up?" you ask Rose. 

"No, never," she says. "Clearly, in this we diverge greatly."  

"Wow that chick is the most anime I have ever seen," says Dave, pointing towards Nepeta across the room. 

"That's my boss, and she will fuck your shit up," you tell him.

"I have literally no doubt about that, she is a fucking tough lookin anime. I am incredibly out of my depth here. My name's Dave, please let me leave this den of iniquity in one place."  

You relax a little. Sometimes people come in here, they see Nepeta with her cat tail and her ears, and they start making fun of her. She or Equius always ends up hearing, and Equius grits his teeth so hard that they chip, and that means Nepeta's gotta beat the interloper up, and it's all very distracting and bad for business.  

Aradia bounces up to the three of you, breathing heavily and still sweat slick from her last bout. "Who's this douchebag?" she asks. 

"My douchebag brother," says Rose.  

"Oh, okay!" 

"Will everyone please stop calling me a douchebag?" asks Dave. 

"Only if you buy the first round," says Aradia. 

\---

Rose and Aradia go out for drinks once a week. Aranea takes your mother to the doctor once a week. Nepeta and you spend every game session together trying to knock the other’s character out long enough to gank all of the XP. Your robot breaks, and is fixed, and breaks again. Life goes on, until suddenly, it doesn’t. 

\---

One Tuesday morning, you’re lounging in your room with your feet in her lap, eating cold pizza, when she goes all still and silent for a long moment. 

“What?” you ask. “What’s up? Did you just remember how shitty that one story you wrote in tenth grade was? Because I’m remembering right now, and it was incredibly shit.” 

Rose looks at you all grim and serious. You shuffle. You wrap your arms around your knees.  “What’s wrong?” you ask. You are trying to sound nonchalant, and failing pretty badly. Has she finally realized, hey, wait a fucking second, what am I doing with this chick? Is she about to leave and never return? 

Rose moves closer to you. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not punch me, all right? It’s something that’s been weighing fairly heavily on my mind, and I think it’s about time you knew.” 

“Haha,” you say. “Is this when you say you bet against me last week?” 

She cups your face in her hands. “I wanted to tell you this a long time ago. But I’m an investigative reporter.”  

The world doesn’t end. This shit happens. Second verse, same as the first. Undercover cop, undercover reporter — fuck, you better tell Nepeta, next person to buddy up to you out of nowhere should just get their ass kicked out on principle. 

“Yeah, so?” you say, pushing her hands away.  

She takes a step back. Give her one thing, the girl knows how to give someone personal space. A thing Terezi never managed.  “So I betrayed your trust, and I wanted to apologize for that. Ask that you consider forgiving me.” 

“Why are you telling me this now?” She looks away. “Rose? Rose, what are you going to do, and why are you telling me this now.” 

“The tournament,” she says. “The one in a few weeks.”  

You can feel the blood drain from your face. “What about it?” 

“Do you know who’s sponsoring it? Because even I’m not sure, and I’ve spent the last two months trying to figure it out. But I think this goes pretty far up, Vriska. I’m absolutely certain that all of this, all of this is just a way to cover up for something bigger! There’s no way Nepeta, not to mention the other boxing ring, could have kept going like this unless there was some sort of government connection, and —“ 

“Why are you telling me this now?” 

She slumps. “I’m — I’m going to publish a story on it. Before the tournament. I’m going to blow this thing wide open.” 

Your breath comes in shakes. “You realize if you do that I’m totally fucked, right? I lose my only source of income? So does Aradia too, actually. And Nepeta. And Jade, and all those other people.” 

“Vriska, please,” she says. She tries to take your hands, but you fend her off. “This is big, this is so much bigger —“ 

“I don’t care!” you say. “I don’t care how big it is! Get the fuck outta my house!” 

She leaves. You were kind of hoping she would fight back, but she doesn’t. She just leaves. 

\---

Aradia doesn’t answer the phone at first. 

You contemplate calling someone else for a moment, but who? You guess you could always yell at Equius, but — 

The phone rings. “Are you dying?” asks Aradia, voice crisp and chipper even through the legendarily shitty speakers in your cell. 

“Yes,” you say. “Get the fuck over here so you can deliver the killing blow. My last gift to you! I’m so gracious.” 

“Mmmm, no,” she says. You cannot believe this piece of shit. 

“It’s Rose,” you say. 

There’s a pause on the other end. “Yeah, well?"

“Yeah well, guess who’s an investigative reporter? Guess who’s trying to blow the whole game?” 

You clutch the phone tight in your hand, and ball your fist into your leg. 

“Oh, honey,” says Aradia. “Not again.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” you say. “I didn’t call you so you could _pity_ me, I called you because she’s planning to do it _next week._ ” 

Silence. 

“Well, we can’t tell Nepeta.” 

“No, obviously we fucking cannot, thanks shithead.” 

“What are we going to do?”  

“I don’t know!” you yell. “Who do you think I called you?” 

Aradia huffs, and pauses for another eternity. Your hand is shaking, and you run it through your tangled hair.  

“Do you know where she lives?”  

“We are _not_ going to go and beat her up.”

“Did I say that was what we’re going to do?” says Aradia. “We’re going to talk to her. You and me. She’s —“ Aradia seems to search for the right word — “ _fond_ of you. I like her. We’re both extremely persuasive and clever women. Well, I am, but hopefully my raw charisma can overcome your tendency to shout profanity. We can talk this out.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Fine! I’ll text you the address.” 

\---

You’ve never been here before, which only strikes you as odd now. Her apartment is in a brick building, closer to the center of the city than you are. Nice wrought iron gate out front, clean white painted door. Could almost make you forget you were on Derse.  

Aradia leans against the doorframe as you buzz up to the apartment marked “LALONDE.” 

“Hello?” says a voice you don’t recognize. “Who is this?” 

“Um, does Rose Lalonde live here?” you ask. 

“Ummmmm,” mouths Aradia at you. You give her the finger.

The high voice says “yes, but —“ 

“Strider and Maryam fashion boutique and private investigators, how may we be of service today?” That voice you recognize. 

“Dave!” you say. “It’s Vriska.” 

“Have you come to confess your love to me?” 

“Dave what did I tell you about moving? The pins!” 

“I’ll buzz you up, don’t think Rose is home, though.” 

There’s a buzz and the sound of a door unlocking, and you hurry up to the apartment. The door’s answered by a tall woman, impeccably dressed and impossibly stunning.  

Right. The girlfriend. 

“Hi,” you say, hands shoved into your pockets. “Vriska, Rose’s friend. I’m here to talk to her.” 

“May we come in?” asks Aradia. The woman smiles at her. “Sure. Sorry, Dave and I were in the middle of something.” 

“Eyyy Aradia!” shouts Dave. “Come here and admire me in this getup before Kanaya rips it off me.” 

Aradia wanders off, and you’re left hunched uncomfortably next to this woman who you suddenly can’t tell if you envy or admire. 

She gives you a once over. “I’ll make some tea while you wait.” 

\---

When Rose gets back, she doesn’t look too surprised to see you both in the kitchen. Not surprised, just tired. Kanaya and Dave dismiss themselves, and then it’s the three of you, standing in Rose’s kitchen, staring at each other. 

Aradia leans against the counter. “I don’t want to have to, but I have to tell you, I do actually have some power to stop you.” 

“Aradia!” you say, imagining her stomping Rose into the ground. 

“No, not like that,” she says. “I mean, I know the Midnight Crew. Pretty well, actually.”  

Rose just stares at her. “Like, the actual crew, not the organization,” amends Aradia. “Clearly you know I know the organization.” 

“You can’t prove that,” says Rose. 

Aradia holds up her hand as if to say “one second,” and digs around in the pocket of her jacket, before handing what looks like a business card to Rose. She studies it for a second, before her head snaps up, her chin held high. "Don't you dare threaten me." 

Aradia shrugs. "I'm not threatening you. I'm just telling you that there are some things you're not going to fix with a snappy headline and crack journalism! You might hurt a lot more people than you help. Including yourself.”   

Rose glances at you, and you glare. You don't want her regret, or her rationalizations, or her apologies. You want people to fucking leave you alone, for good.  

“Get out of my apartment,” says Rose. 

“Happy to,” you say, and stomp out the door before Aradia has enough time to say another word. 

\--- 

"I haven't seen that Rose girl around too much lately," says Aranea when you walk in. "Did you drive her away somehow?" 

"You are such a piece of shit," you say. "Please never talk to me again." 

"I'm serious - I want to know," says Aranea. She takes the bowl away that you were about to pour cereal into. “I want to know if she’s planning on publishing that story of hers, or if she’s wisely reconsidered.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“Come on, Vriska. Don’t play dumb. I would say you’re not stupid, but I’m not sure of that! Still, you must be able to follow the thread of conversation here.” 

“What the fuck do you — why — what —“ You’re spluttering, mind reeling. “Why do you even care?” 

“Please,” says Aranea. “Put it together.” 

“Who do you work for, then?” you ask. That’s all you can think, that she’s someone with the Midnight Crew, maybe? Or the Felt or — 

"You tell her that if she so much as shows a draft to her editor, we will remove her as a threat to our operations," says Aranea. Your blood runs cold, hot, cold again. You are unsurprised and shocked and sour with grief. 

You might not like your sister, but she's still your sister. But Rose is Rose and threats are threats. 

"If you're such a fucking mucky-muck for these assholes, why do I have to go out there and get beat on every other night to pay the bills? Why didn't you _tell me_?" 

"You weren't part of the plan," says Aranea. "You're never part of the plan. You're an inconvenience, and I needed something to keep you occupied." 

Hot, cold, hot again. 

"What have you been doing with the money, then?"

"That's none of your concern." 

"Like hell it's not my concern!" 

Aranea tsks. "You always were so irrational, Vriska." 

“What the fuck have you been doing this whole time?” 

Aranea shakes her head. “It’s all part of the plan, dear, I assure you. Don’t worry your head about it. Just do what I tell you, get that girl away from it, and everything will be just fine.” 

"What if I don't want to tell Rose that?" 

She pauses. "Tell her what?" 

"The part where you threaten her. What if I don't want to stop her. What if she's right?" 

Her lips purse. "Then I think maybe you should not come back here." 

"Fine by me!" you say. Your feet are out the door before you have time to think. 

\--- 

You think about going to Aradia's, but you can't bear the thought of another humiliation just quite yet. You think about going to Nepeta's, but who is Nepeta working with? Is she on your sister's side, or yours? And even if she is on yours, why should she care more about you than about everything she has going? 

The Clamshell's closed for the night. You don't know if you know Jade well enough to beg her to let you couch surf. 

So you go to Rose's. It's three in the morning, and you've parked yourself outside of the door of the woman you were threatening not twenty four hours ago. 

You get buzzed up without any conversation, which puts you on guard. What if someone's already gotten to her? What if upstairs there's five goons waiting for you? Well, five's not too many. You could take them. 

But the person who's at the door is Kanaya. "Rose is not home right now," says Kanaya. Her voice is sleepy, she's wearing pajamas. "I don't know when she will be. I understand she's in some danger right now. If you know her whereabouts, I would very much appreciate knowing them." 

Your shoulders slump. You are three inches from calamity. "No, I don't. I just came here to warn her." The words tumble out faster now. "My sister's after her, I think, and I think she's in more danger than she thinks she is, and I hate that she's doing this! But I hate my sister more! And now I can't go back!" 

"Do you need somewhere to stay, is that why you came here?" 

You’re tired of questions and dancing around things. You hurt, and you're tired, and if Dave had answered the door instead of miss fussy here, you could have punched him in the shoulder and thrown yourself on the couch and made a joke and it would have been okay. 

"Who said that I'm doing this to help her!" 

"I think you did, maybe just about two seconds ago?" 

You grit your teeth, and throw your hands up in the air. "Never mind." 

"Get in here," she says. "You can sleep on the couch."

"Who said I wanted to sleep on your stupid couch, anyway!" 

She folds her arm. 

"Okay, if you're going to make a big deal about it!" 

She sighs, and when you sit on the couch dumps several monstrous knitted blankets on top of you.   

"Goodnight," she says. "Please try not to cause anything disastrous to happen." 

\---

In the morning, Dave makes you pancakes while spewing gibberish the entire time. You chew your food like its sawdust. 

"She can take care of herself," he says. "Really, she can." 

You swallow, and the food's like lead in your stomach. 

\---

You open your locker, and shove your bag inside. Taped to the inside of the door is a note, in your sister's bubblegum blue handwriting. 

 

> _Hope you win that big match in a couple of weeks, sis! I don't know if you'll like what happens if you don't. ;;;; ) kiss kiss kiss_

You tear the paper from the locker, rend it into tiny pieces. She knows she can take every victory from you. 

Tonight’s fights come in quick succession. Whoever wins stays in the ring until someone takes them down. 

No one’s gonna beat you, though. You are fury and flash, you barely notice the ref, the announcer’s prattle, the heaving morass of spectators.  

Another one down. Blood on your fists, blood in your mouth, the familiar copper taste. 

Someone else gets in the ring. Looks like Aradia but it’s not Aradia. Everyone’s starting to look like her, all the spectators Rosetwins, all watching. You fix yourself on the ring as if it is your lodestone. Down. Another one out. Your legs ache and your fingers scream at you and something in your chest is hurting but how is that any different from normal? 

You’ve got this one in the corner, land punch after punch on their jaw, shoulder, stomach, till they tap out.  Another one, you say. Give me another one. 

The crowd’s hollering, so loud your ears ring. 

Uppercut lands right in your face. One eye swells shut. Can’t barely see. That doesn’t matter. One. Two. Three. Back Up. 

You stop dancing around the ring. Stop dodging. Just keep throwing punches, left hook to the solar plexus and this one’s down too. You flail another punch but the ref swoops you back. 

No one else comes . “Anyone else?” you yell. Your voice is hoarse. “Anyone else?” The crowd’s raucous, you don’t know what they’re cheering for. The announcers shouting something, and the ref holds your arm in the air. You wrench it away. Ignore the people who try and thump you on the back, talk to you, yell in your ear as you walk away. Ignore Jade trying to sneak up to you with a first aid kit. 

You go to the locker room, pull on your jacket with suddenly shaky hands. Stuff your feet into your shoes. Take your keys. Nepeta’s standing in the doorway, blocking your egress. “Not now, short stuff,” you say, your voice even more garbled than before. 

She throws a towel in your face, and you wipe it off. “Good work, Serket,” she says. “Don’t ever do it again.” 

You can't go home. You can't go to Rose's again, can't burden Rose's family with your weirdass impulses and your bleeding and your bruises. 

So you walk to Aradia's. You don't have a key, but she's a fool if she ever thought that would stop you. You pick the lock, you know she'll be out for a little longer at least, it's Friday, and she spends those helping Meenah tend bar.  

You slip your shoes off, and lay down on her couch. It's musty and smells familiar and your feet hang off it by a mile and it makes you want to cry. 

Aradia might kick you or kill you when she gets back, but you don't care right now. At least if she hurts you, it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean she's turning her back on you. 

You bury your face in the armrest and shudder yourself to sleep. 

\--- 

When you wake up, Rose is standing over you. You groan, and bury your face in your hands.  

“Hello, Vriska,” she says. 

“Go away, I’m not speaking to you.” 

“Aradia let me in. She called me. She was concerned about you.” 

You laugh. It’s not a bitter or sarcastic or cruel laugh, but one of real mirth. Concerned? Aradia? _Concerned?_ “I’m sure she was.” 

Rose holds up a first aid box. “You’re a mess.” 

“Yes, thank you Lalonde! I am aware! Wait, Aradia has your phone number?” 

She pushes your legs carefully off the couch, and sits down next to you, opening the first aid kit and assessing you. “Okay, what hurts the most.”  

“My dignity.” 

“Is that located in your shoulder? Your shoulder looks like it might be in bad shape.” 

You shrug, and the movement makes a scab tear, elicits a gasp from you. 

“Right,” says Rose. She tugs at your jacket, and you peel it off, wincing. She tsks when she sees your shoulder. “I’m going to need you to take your tank top off too.” 

You don’t know why this makes you blush. It’s just Rose, and you don’t — not like _that._ “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

“Yes, sexy pain management. Come on, if you bleed out you can’t yell at me.” 

“Don’t want her to see me like this,” you mumble, and Rose looks at you quizzically. 

“Who? Aradia? From what I understand, it’s not like she hasn’t seen you naked before.”  

You hunch your shoulders, but take the tank top off anyway. “That’s different, and you know it.” 

Rose tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before gathering it all up and moving it away from your injury. “She went out,” she says softly. “I told her it might be best if she gave me a little time.” 

“You’re devious,” you say nervously. 

“Yes.” 

You didn’t notice before, but she brought some water in a bowl with her too. She dunks a washcloth in the water, and puts it on your shoulder. 

“Ow! Be careful!” 

“Don’t be a baby, we haven’t even gotten to the painful part yet.” 

You twist your hands while she dabs the gash with hydrogen peroxide. You’ve never been one to be shy, but this is the first time in a long time you’ve felt actually naked in front of someone. You’re running hot and her hands are cold. 

“What do you want?” 

Rose tapes gauze to the wound, begins wrapping a bandage around it. 

“Admit it, you just came back so you could fulfill a lifelong urge to act out a shitty slash cliche. Bandaging up the wounds of the romantic interest tenderly. Should I put on a wizard hat? Would that add to the immersion for you?” 

“Are you the romantic interest?” she asks you, and it stops you cold. 

“I don’t know.” 

Minutes pass in silence. Every time you try to do something yourself, every time you reach for a bandaid or attempt to tug the disinfectant out of her hands, she stops you. Lays a hand on you and it gentles you, and you hate it. Rose cleans your hands: your bloody knuckles, your callused palms, your ragged fingernails. Covers them until the hurt looks gone, and lays a kiss on your wrist. 

“I came back,” she says, “Because you can’t seem to take care of yourself.” 

\---

"So what are we going to do?" asks Aradia, once you've told her and Rose about your sister's ominous threats, about her involvement, about the note in the locker room. She brought takeout back with her, and that almost makes you like her. You are ravenous, and eating out of the carton faster than you thought you could. 

"You can publish the damn story for all I care!" you say, nodding to Rose, mouth still half full of rice.  

Rose shakes her head. "Clearly, I was misinformed as to the completeness of my knowledge. I hate to go to press when there's more going on." 

"Really?" says Aradia. "Threats and cajoling, and it's fact checking that makes you stop? Not the death threats?" She's smiling.  

"Well, the death threats did factor in a bit," admits Rose. 

"Then let's just throw the fucking tournament!" you say. "It doesn't matter!" 

"I'm not into losing," says Aradia. 

"Okay, so what then?"  

Rose puts down her fork. "You win it." 

"What?" you say. "That's exactly what Aranea wants!" 

"So?" says Aradia. "I don't care! It's our money, not hers." 

"You don't get it, she'll figure out a way to take it, or she'll -- or it'll help her in some other way!" 

"She's not going to take the money," says Aradia. "You forget, this time it's not just yours, it's mine too. And nobody takes what's mine, unless I want them to." 

She winks at you, and you think she might actually have a point.

"Plus," says Rose, "Once you both have more assets, you have more ability to get away from here, or to protect yourselves." 

"Yeah sure," you say. "I'm sure there are tons of people who'd want to hide two shitty boxers from some sort of mob beef." 

"We are not shitty boxers!" says Aradia. "Okay," she admits. "You are. You're pretty shit! But I'm not." 

You expect Rose to say something cutting to her, something, perhaps, defending your virture. But instead she rubs her forehead like she suddenly has a terrible headache. "Is it - " 

"What?" you ask. "What's wrong?" 

" _Is it_ a mob beef? Who is she working with? The Felt? The Midnight Crew?"  

"Not the Midnight Crew," says Aradia, chewing thoughtfully. 

"We have got to talk about how you know that, at some point, my dear," says Rose. "But all right. Not MC." 

"The Felt, then," you say. 

Rose shakes her head. "Why would she want you to win then?" 

"I don't know!" you say. You feel, suddenly, terribly out of your depth. "Part of a trick or something." 

"No," says Rose. "No, I think she's working alone. Alone, or for another group we don't know about." 

"If she's working alone, then it really doesn't matter!" says Aradia. "She's Vriska's sister, how tough could she be?" 

You shake your head. "I don't think she's working _alone_ alone. But. Yeah. Maybe not for either side." 

Aradia scrunches her nose. "A lot of your reluctance seems tied up in being afraid of your sister, or something. Honestly, she's one person." 

"If she's got money, she's as many people as she need to be," says Rose. 

"And Aranea's always been more of a . . . people person than me," you admit. 

Rose and Aradia both laugh. "That is not a very high bar to clear," says Aradia. 

"Maybe she's hoping you'll do the opposite of what she said," says Rose. "Maybe she's hoping you'll lose, and she's trying to encourage that by goading you on." 

"So she can do, what? That makes even less sense." 

"No, no, it sort of does," says Aradia. 

“We might be concentrating on the wrong thing,” says Rose. 

“Yeah,” says Aradia. She reaches over Rose to stab a fork into your box of food. “Like, why isn’t Vriska sharing?”

“No, no, I mean with Aranea — well actually, that’s true too, Aradia hand me a fork, will you? — anyway, does it matter what Aranea’s plan is, or her role in this?”  

“I thought that you were doing this for journalism,” you say. “Why aren’t you, journaliziming? Isn’t that what this is all about in the first place?” 

Rose smoothes her hand over your hair. “Maybe my priorities have shifted.” 

Aradia looks at the both of you, eyebrows raised. “So, what you’re saying is, get the money?” 

“Get the money,” says Rose. “Then turn her in.” 

“To who? The Felt, the Midnight Crew? She could be with either!” you say. 

“No, I mean to the legitimate authorities,” says Rose. She frowns. “Though I guess that might not work either, since I believe there’s government involvement here as well.” 

“And everyone pays off all the cops anyway,” you say. 

Aradia grins. “Not all of them.” 

Rose gives her a questioning look. You bury your head in your hands. 

“Well, all but one, at least.” 

\---

You make a few phone calls. You sit through a few excruciating interrogations with your ex. She sniffs and laughs a lot, and makes friends with Rose, and _is everyone in your life going to get along with each other now????????_ Having multiple people you get along with is complex and frightening and probably more trouble than its worth. Still, sitting in a donut shop at an ungodly early hour of the morning, sitting next to Rose watching Terezi lick the frosting off of one donut after another while ruthlessly hitting on Aradia, it almost feels okay. Like your world is getting bigger. Like you are not just Vriska the sister/daughter and Mindfang the flurry of fists. Like you mean more than that. 

\---

Rose sits in the locker room with you and Aradia before the first match. She braids Aradia’s hair while you pace back and forth, suit half zipped, waiting for your turn.

“You’re going to be fine,” says Rose.  

“I’m not worried!” you snap. 

‘You’re going to be fine,” says Rose. “You’re going to win.” 

You’re not so sure any more. Aradia looks as relaxed as she always does. Can you fight with her, not against her? 

Then you realize, you already have. 

“What if we don’t, though?” 

“Vriska, sweetheart, the day you and Aradia can’t kick the asses of every single robot fighter from here to Prospit to Skaia is the day hell freezes over.” 

“She’s right,” says Aradia. She grabs your hand, pulls you down onto the bench mid-pace, and clasps your hands together so tightly her knuckles turn white. “We’re pretty good.” 

You look at the two of them, so at ease. They trust you. They believe in you. They might even like you. 

Aradia punches you in the shoulder, right where she knows you’ve got a killer bruise, and you revise your opinion. _One_ of them might like you. “I think it’s time,” she says. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah it is.” 

Rose ties the bottom of Aradia’s braid. She kisses you on the forehead, and you lean into her. “I’ll be watching from the sidelines. If I see Aranea, I’ll call for backup.”

“Who’s your backup? Dave?” you ask. 

Rose gathers your hair, twists it in her hands. “You’d be surprised at how adept Kanaya is with a chainsaw.” She kisses you again, very carefully, on the lips. “Go now.” 

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.” 

“You’re slowing me down, Serket!” yells Aradia from the doorway. 

You flip her off, but get up anyway, glancing behind at Rose once more before you’re gone. 

“Are you gonna wuss out on me, Megido?” you ask Aradia as you descend the steps towards the Pit. 

She pulls your hair. 

“I cannot believe you just pulled my hair!” you shriek. “What are you, five?” 

Aradia laughs, and starts running ahead of you.  You swear and give chase, but you’re laughing too. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who knows anything about boxing. I took some rather large liberties, but hopefully it makes sense in context. 
> 
> The original prompt was -- "Humanstuck where Aradia and Vriska are both boxers trying to make a living in the underground Derse fighting rings. Rose Lalonde wanders in as an investigating journalist, and threatens to turn the entire operation in right before the biggest fight of Aradia's and Vriska's careers, potentially losing them spoils that would put them on the gravy train for life. They attempt to convince her otherwise." 
> 
> Hopefully this satisfies! I had fun writing it, I hope you had fun reading. : )


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